What I Didn't Wish For
by imsmith
Summary: The story of Katrina, taken from her happy life of sunlight and daydreams to the world of eternal night.


I used to be obsessed with vampires. No, really. I used to pretend there was one watching me all the time, just infatuated with me for one reason or another, none that really made sense. Not that I wanted to _meet_ a vampire, I wasn't stupid; I knew obsessed or no, that the first thing a vampire would do was rip out my throat, but I still liked the idea that _some_one, _any_one, would think I was interesting enough to watch.

They always said be careful what you wish for.

Except I didn't wish for what I got.

I mean, I had it all going on; my grades were pretty high, I had plenty of friends, no one really hated me, and I could smoke anyone on the track field. Long distance, sprints, you name it, I could run it. And beat it. I've always been real imaginative, and running is when I can do my best fantasizing. When I was little, I used to pretend I was running from bees, but as I grew up, it went from everyday stuff to out of this universe stuff, and yes, even vampires. Practice was from 6th period to 4:30 everyday, and I was in heaven. Three and half hours of open track and daydreams, what more could you wish for?

But someone thought I wanted more.

It started at the track and field banquet at the end of my sophomore year. It was one of those lousy school banquets with long speeches, bad catering, and seniors crying all over the place. Everyone was really waiting for after the banquet, when the party would really start. Every year after the banquet, the track team would go to amusement parks or show. Last year, we were lucky enough to go to a theme park when another high school had their Senior Night, but that was because one of the girls on our track team had family who worked there. This year, it was Midnight Bowling. Not as fun as riding roller coasters, but it was always good to be with friends and eat the delicious fries that the Bowling Alley (That's the name of the place. How original) is famous for. So after the last boring speech from the coach, we piled into our cars and headed to ward the alley. It must have been 3:30 when we finally stopped playing and decided to go home and catch some sleep. I had only just gotten my permit, so I caught a ride home with my best friend Sherrie Thompson.

Sherrie and I go way back. In first grade, she punched my nose because I beat her at dodge ball. Strangely enough, this only endeared her to me (I had two brothers, one older and one younger, and being able to punch harder than either of them was quite an accomplishment) so when the teacher on yard duty came running up to me, I accused a couple of boys instead. Sherrie and I have been best friends ever since.

Not that we both haven't punched each other in the nose since the first time. Like the time that Sherrie cut her hair. Sherrie and I were about the same size, with long blonde hair, though her eyes were blue whereas my eyes were green. Still, we looked like twins, and we both loved to hear it. She had an older sister already, but I had longed for one for as long as I can remember. We lived close by, and saw each other nearly everyday. Even our parents started to refer to us as "the twins." We were almost exactly alike…that is, until she cut her hair. I wouldn't speak to her for a month after that happened. I got over it, even though Sherrie still refused to grow her hair out again.

"We're friends," she would tell me, "not identical twins separated at birth." Which is exactly what I used to pretend.

Sherrie was born December 27, (another reason we could not pretend we were twins, I was born in June) and could lord over her new driver's license a full six months before I could. This was a blessing and a curse; at least my mother didn't have to ferry me everywhere, and I didn't feel guilty about making her drive me about at 3:00 in the morning.

So said our good-byes and bundled into Sherrie's car for home. The bowling alley was in a remote place, with just a freeway and a couple of fast food restaurants nearby. I had always wondered who had chosen such a stupid lot, but the Bowling Alley's fries made up for it. The alley was about 15 miles from my house, but it we weren't even a third of the way home before Sherrie's car broke down.

"Damn!" Sherrie swore, "I just got this goddamn car and now my parents are going to _kill_ me!" She slammed her fist against the car. I was thinking that denting the car was only going to make matters worse, but it didn't seem like it was the time for making snide comments.

"Just call AAA, or something," I told her.

"No, I was thinking about pushing the car home," she drawled sarcastically. "Geez, K." She ripped out her cell phone. "Shit!"

"What now?"

"My cell phone just died. Did you bring yours?"

"Sherrie, I don't have a cell phone. Remember, I opted for the new computer over the cell phone? The phone is for my next birthday." I waited patiently as Sherrie hissed out a steady stream of curses.

"Alright, alright," she said when she had finished her soliloquy of swearing. "I'll just walk to that gas station we passed, shouldn't be more than half a mile away. I can get help from there."

"By yourself?" I squealed. I did not want to be left alone in the middle of the night with the closet thing being the freeway and the gas station.

"You'll be fine," she told me, guessing what was really going on in my head. With a flick of her short, highlighted hair, she strutted off. I got into the car and slammed the door shut. Serve her right if she got ran off the road by some idiot in a BMW.

After about five minutes, I heard footsteps approaching. Oh god, I thought, it's a gang of homeless guys about to break the windows and take my money. Or crazies. Should I give what money I have left over from bowling? How much was that, six-fifty? Maybe I could convince them that I live in the car, and they'll feel sorry for me and…

"K? Katrina?" It was Sherrie. I practically flew out of the car to throttle her for making me think a gang of homeless guys were out to steal the car. I was about to launch myself at her when I saw she had brought help.

He was tall, with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes with such fierce intensity I almost backed up a few steps. He was extremely pale, which only made his eyes and hair stand out even more. He wore a plain black jacket with black jeans, and though I must have seen about 20 guys wear that same thing at the banquet that night, he made it look as though he had created a completely original ensemble. I thought that if anyone looked like a vampire, he did.

Oh, the ironies of life.

Sherrie, however, oblivious to everything but his good looks, blabbered on about how he could drive us somewhere and his car, and other and that he might be able to fix the car. I could tell Sherrie was opting for the first option. That was where I lost interest in her because that was when I saw the car. It was beautiful. No, it was even better than that. It was a gorgeous sapphire that gleamed even in the night and was a model I hadn't even heard of before. I am not a car obsessing type of person, but I all but drooled over this car. The windows were heavily tinted, but were rolled down just a little, which was weird in this kind of weather, since it had been raining for most of this past week. However, common sense made me rip my eyes away from that glorious car (not to mention its owner).

"Sherrie, it's great you got help, but we don't even know what's wrong with the car. And unless, no offense sir," I pointed at the boy, "he is a mechanic, or his car just happens to be a very flashy tow truck, we still have a problem."

"Katrina…" Sherrie hissed, but the boy smoothly cut her off.

"I'm afraid my vehicle is lacking in such abilities, but I do know something of cars, and I could see what I could do about your problem. If you don't mind, that is."

"Oh, I'll see if I can help," cooed Sherrie. God, I hated it when she did that. I slunk back and resumed admiring the car. In the tiny crack in the window, I thought I saw something move. A girlfriend, perhaps? Not wanting to look like I was prying, I pretended to observe the handles of the car and peered in. Nope. Nothing except for _Oh my God_…. There were three girls tied up in the back there! They looked like they were sleeping, but I was really avoiding the idea that they might have long since stopped breathing. I glanced at Sherrie out of the corner of my and tried not to panic. Trying to look as though I was finishing off my inspection of the car, I looked at the tires and the license plate, memorizing the sequence. I then strolled leisurely back to Sherrie and the boy. How was I going to get us out of this? First thing would be to tell Sherrie, but I had no idea to communicate it without arousing some suspicion. I didn't want to be the next one to end up in the car, even if it did mean I got a chance to inspect the inside. I gazed at the Sherrie's car, knowing that there was no way we were getting out of this in _that_ junk heap. No wonder the car broke down, with the care Sherrie took with it. The car hadn't been washed in forever and there was dust all over the dashboard…suddenly I was hit with an idea. I interrupted Sherrie's little flirting session and asked her the one thing that would make any girl's best friend stop what she was doing.

"Sherrie, do you have a…you know…it's that time of the month…and, uh…"

The boy gave me an amused smirk. _Great,_ I thought, _just what I need_. Then I caught myself. Why did I care what a psycho-kidnapper/possibly murderer thought? Sherrie sighed, looking thoroughly disgusted with me, but at least she was moving, going. As she walked to the car and opened the door, I quickly wrote in the dust on the dash _3 girls in car kidnapped maybe dead_ Sherrie was pulling her backpack out when she saw my message.

"What?" She said incredulously. Looking at the message, it did look like a gag joke, but how was I supposed to convey all that I say in the car in ten words or less? I was worried she wasn't going to believe me, but she must have figured out I wasn't kidding. After all, we had been friends for ten years. _What do we do?_ I mouthed.

"Run!" she whispered. She turned around and took all of five steps before she ran into the boy. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be a very good idea," his voice was low, yet the threat in it was evident. I got a sudden picture of Sherrie bound and gagged with those other girls. The image spurred me to move without actually thinking about what I was doing. I jumped over the trunk of the car and rammed into the boy. It was like hitting solid rock, but he let go of Sherrie.   
"Run!" I screamed. I have set records at numerous schools and events in the past for sprinting, but never in my life have I run as fast as I did then. I could run faster than all the girls at my school, and most of the boys, but the man had caught up to me before I had run for a full fifteen seconds, and I had the sickening feeling that he had already dealt with Sherrie. I clutched at my jacket, searching for anything that could help me. My hands found my keys in amongst the lint. At that moment, the boy seized my wrist and flung me around to face him, and I used that momentum to add more force as I slammed my house key into the first available area; his heart. For a moment, we both stood staring at the place in his shirt where the key was jammed, I was wrong, it seemed, for the jagged end of the key was jammed about two inches to the right of his heart. Still, I bet having a key lodged anywhere in any part of one's body was not a pleasant sensation, to say the least. With a sudden movement, the boy jerked the key out of his chest, and blood flowed silently, then trickled, as I watched in amazement as the wound sealed itself up.

"That was a bit too close," he snapped, and he backhanded me so hard I fell to the pavement. My arms reached out too slowly, and my head rebounded off the asphalt. Yet even as I was blacking out I knew what he was.

"You're a vampire, aren't you?" I mumbled, and then the darkness claimed me.


End file.
